


the cost of freedom: Darius' punishment

by Lukra (49percentchanceofbees)



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Brutality, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:57:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/49percentchanceofbees/pseuds/Lukra
Summary: Cornetand his brother,Idlin, watch their fatherDariusundergo brutal punishment for helping his sonRidleyescape from slavery.





	the cost of freedom: Darius' punishment

**Author's Note:**

> TW: slavery, gore

“That’s enough for the whelps. Don’t want to ruin them; they might still be worth something someday.”

 

Cornet exhaled as the blows raining down on him stopped and risked a glance over at Idlin, seeing his own relief at the beating’s end reflected in his brother’s eyes. Then, before he could react further, the snapper guards hauled them both up -- Cornet whimpered as their rough grip pressed bruises and jarred his aching body -- and pointed them towards their father.

 

“Watch well.” The commander, a ridgeback, cupped Cornet’s face in his claws and grinned. “This’ll be educational.”

 

The lesson, Cornet knew, was obedience. So he obeyed now, not daring to take his eyes off Darius, however much he wanted to. Even the sight of his father sent a bitter pang through Cornet, anger and shame at once: he knew it was cruel to blame his father for events, but throughout the beating he’d clung to a burning hatred, not for their master but for Darius. Darius had to have known that his rebellion would be discovered and punished. He should have anticipated that his sons would suffer for it as well. His _remaining_ sons, that was: for Darius’ crime lay in helping his Arcanist-marked child Ridley escape slavery, and he hadn’t bothered to send Idlin and Cornet with him. Cornet hadn’t had a chance to ask his father why he hadn’t considered his other sons worthy of freedom as well.

 

Darius bore heavy chains, pinning the imperial to the sand, but remained unharmed except for a light preliminary beating: their master had decided to start off by making Darius watch his sons’ punishment. Now he turned to Darius, taking a knife from one of the guards.

 

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” said their master, who was also an imperial, though he wore his smaller bipedal form. Everyone present did, except Darius, chained to the ground like a beast. “Now, what to do with you … First, let’s make sure you can’t make any more _little bargains_ like you did with that traitor guard. We’ll find him, you know, and the boy; I want you to know that you’ve done this to yourself for nothing.”

 

As he spoke, their master reached out, forced open Darius’ mouth -- two guards, mirrors, took hold of his jaws to make sure he couldn’t bite down -- and pulled out his tongue, gripping it in one claw. For a long moment their master looked into Darius’ eyes -- unusual, as slaves were not supposed to make eye contact with their masters; Cornet couldn’t see if Darius tried to avoid his gaze. Then, sneering, he raised the knife and sliced through the thick muscle of Darius’ tongue.

 

As Darius screamed, Cornet closed his eyes, then forced them open again: he had been ordered to watch, and feared further punishment if he didn’t. Darius’ hot blood sizzled on the sand; their master took a rag from a guard, handing the mirror the knife, and wiped his claws contemptuously.

 

“I would kill you,” he said, when his claws were clean of Darius’ blood, “but that would be too good for you. I want to give you plenty of time to think about what you’ve done. You wanted freedom? You don’t want to be a slave anymore? Fine. You’re not. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

 

He turned away, gesturing to the guards. “Pack it up, but don’t touch him. He gets to stay here.”

 

For a moment hope had risen in Cornet’s chest, against all odds; now he realized what their master really meant. Out here, in the desert, chained alone under the sun … Darius would die slow. Cornet couldn’t help wondering what would kill him first, blood loss or thirst. He wondered if without a tongue, Darius could taste his own blood in his mouth; if he would choke on it. He tried to meet Darius’ eyes, but he could read nothing in them, too far away. Then, as the guards set him on his feet and prodded him away, he tried not to wonder anything at all.


End file.
